


Birthday Surprise

by Hexcraft



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Birthday Sex, M/M, Shower hand job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexcraft/pseuds/Hexcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred's got a major crush on senior heartthrob Ivan, and he's convinced himself to be satisfied with encountering the Russian during summer workouts. But as Al's best friend, Arthur decides to give the American an extra birthday present that Al never saw coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Alfred! Wait up!”  
Fixing his usual smile in place, the tall blond turned and waved at the approaching girl. “Hey, Alice!”  
She smiled, a bit shy, and somewhat nervously fidgeted with the end of one long blond ponytail. “How are you?”  
“I’m great. You?”  
“All right. I, um, wanted to give you these…” A blush colored her cheeks and she rummaged through her messenger bag for a few moments before offering a white envelope with his name on it, along with a small red box decorated with a ribbon. “I hope you like cherries…”  
“Wow, thanks! Yeah, cherries are great!” He grinned at her as he took the envelope and box, knowing the card would wish him a happy birthday.  
Alice looked surprised but pleased by his enthusiasm. “Really…?”  
“Dude, cherries are my favorite. Are these those chocolate covered ones with all the syrup inside?”  
She nodded.  
“These are the best! Thanks!”  
“You’re welcome.” She was blushing furiously now, and Alfred had to admit it was cute, but she was Arthur’s little sister and even though he knew she’d had a crush on him for ages, he’d never seen her in a romantic light. Arthur was his best friend and Alfred saw Alice as a small step short of being his own sister.  
“Man, I wanna eat these right now but I gotta go to practice. But I’ll see you later, kay?”  
Smiling and still a little pink in the face, Alice nodded. “Bye, Alfred.”  
Waving again, the blue-eyed blond turned and walked away, heading towards his car as before. He’d stopped to pick up Arthur and drive them both to practice at the high school, and Alice had caught him on his way back from the front door of the Kirkland house. Practice would consume the next couple hours of his life, after which he meant to spend the day hanging out with Arthur playing videogames and eating the chocolate cherries Alice had just given him.  
The moment he slid into the driver’s seat of his car, Arthur gave him a sly grin. “She got up earlier than I did so she could look pretty to give you that.”  
“Why don’t you do anything to discourage her? You know as well as I do that it’s never going to happen.”  
“Cause it’s bloody funny to see her get all red every time you come over. Now drive, or we’ll be late.”  
Alfred didn’t bother responding to that and silently drove the short couple of minutes from Arthur’s house to the school. Several other cars were already in the parking lot, and Alfred parked quickly so they could join the other stragglers. A lot of the guys grumbled about summer practice even though the work outs got a lot easier once school started, and they enjoyed competing during meets. But Alfred looked forward to those few hours of having to think about nothing but running faster, striding farther, controlling his breathing and making sure he did better than the other guy. Sports had always been a favorite pastime for the tall American.  
Most of his teammates were already there when he reached the locker room, and Alfred couldn’t help but let his gaze wander to one corner of the room, where _his_ locker was.  
Broad, pale shoulders above a muscular back, strong legs, black boxer briefs over an ass that was damn well near perfect. Toned thighs and calves below that, and Alfred had seen with his own eyes that the front of that man’s body was just as sexy as the back.  
Was his mouth watering? Oops.  
Forcing his gaze away from his changing teammate Alfred went to his own locker. He smiled and nodded in greeting to those he passed on his way. Arthur’s locker was right next to his own, and nearby were Matthew, Antonio and several others. And _him_ , of course. _He_ was there to get an early start on football training, had helped the school’s team make it to State for the last three years. They were both seniors now; this would be their last year together, ever, since they wouldn’t be attending the same college. It made Alfred sad to think he wouldn’t see him any more after they graduated, but at least they would have basketball and track together.  
 _Because he knows you exist now. Idiot._  
Okay, that was an exaggeration. Of course the other athlete knew he existed, and knew his name, since they’d been on the same sports teams and in similar classes since junior high, but they’d never really been friends. They’d tried, but Alfred had been attracted to him from the start and made a bumbling idiot of himself whenever his nerves got the best of him, which was just about every time those eyes even glanced in his direction.  
Luckily for him, he was usually too caught up in his own work outs to be distracted by the larger male across the room.  
Hurriedly, Alfred changed out of his regular clothes and into his uniform, comfortable in athletic shorts, sweat pants and an oversized hoody—they helped to trap in the heat to make exercise more efficient at burning calories and building muscle—then headed out to the practice field. Being early July, it was still a little chilly out, so he wasn’t exactly appreciative of his sweats, and neither were the others. It was just merciful that their coach would let them strip down to shorts if it got hot enough.  
He used the distance to the field to jog in order to start warming up his muscles. The team warm ups would be easier that way.  
“Three laps, guys!” their coach, a man with messy, wind-tousled brown hair and an easy grin, yelled once the team had gathered at one end of the field. “Let’s go! Conditioning’s half the battle! Time to buckle down and get ready for some meets!”  
It was all the encouragement they needed and within moments the boys were jogging the track in a loose bunch. Alfred could easily have taken the lead and kept it for the entire three laps, but he wanted to save his strength so he found a place somewhere in the middle of the group and settled into a nice easy stride. They’d already completed the first lap and were a fourth of the way into their second by the time he noticed who was jogging just next to him.  
 _Oh my god. Don’t stare. Damn he’s huge. Don’t stare! Eyes forward, Jones!_  
Maybe he should say something. Just hi. Ask how he was. Something lame and boring and ugh why was this so hard? Why did he have to have a crush on the same guy all these years and still not have the courage to even try to talk to him? He was smart, and strong, and handsome! He should be able to handle something as stupid as a crush!  
If only it were that easy.  
Besides, they were in practice and talking during warm ups wasn’t something Coach tolerated. The man was friendly and funny if not a bit awkward at times—he was uncomfortably open about some things—but he was very serious about behaving during practice and having a conversation when he should be focused on running would probably earn Alfred extra laps. Not that he minded running. Cross Country was his love and joy and he was used to running ten or more miles at seven am on a Saturday during the fall, spring and summer. Winter was basketball to keep him in shape, and he was good at that, too, if he did say so himself.  
Once the three laps had been completed, the teens spread out over a section of the track and set about their stretches, keeping their own counts and going their own pace because they were too old to need a leader to count them through. Alfred picked a place next to Arthur and grinned at the shorter blond.  
“Winded already, Kirkland?” he teased, because the Brit was slightly red in the cheeks and he was breathing a bit harder than normal. They were allowed to talk during stretches as long as they didn’t get distracted and slack off  
“Serious athletes stretch seriously,” was Coach’s favorite line.  
“Shut up, Jones,” Arthur growled, rolling his green eyes in pretend annoyance. This was their usual routine, and it would continue throughout practice whenever they got near each other.  
“Is three laps too much for you?”  
“You’re a git.”  
“You love me anyway. In a completely platonic, bromantic sense.”  
“Oh, shove off.”  
Alfred chuckled, and lowered himself from his last lunge stretch onto the rubber of the track to complete the second half of his stretches. Hurdle, spinal twist, butterfly, calves, then partner stretches with Arthur, which meant he had to get up again, but by that time he was finished, and when Arthur’s turn was done, most of the team was ready to move on, too.  
“Jones!” Their coach strode towards him, whistle glistening in the sunlight against his black jacket and a clipboard under his arm. “Agilities. Six—you pick ‘em.”  
“You got it, Coach!” Alfred was proud to be put in charge. “Line up, dudes!”  
His teammates shuffled into two sort-of-straight lines at one end of the high jump pit, with Alfred at the head of one and _him_ leading the other.  
 _Don’t get distracted._  
“High knees!” he called loud enough for those in the back to hear, then started to move across the pit, jogging but with his knees jerking up almost as high as his chest. With an even space between each pair, the rest of his teammates followed, lined up, and went back in the same fashion.  
“Butt kicks!” If it had been muddy, he’d have had shoe prints on his own ass.  
Karaokes, straight legs, windmills, and caterpillars left the boys a little out of breath but sufficiently warmed up and sweating slightly under their uniforms.  
“All done, Coach!” The blond beamed, hands on his hips as he looked around at his teammates with more than a little pride.  
“Good. Ivan, Coach Ox is waiting for you over by the goalpost. The rest of you, with me.”  
Alfred was careful to be discreet as he watched _him_ walk away towards the goal post where the football coach stood waiting. He was barely going to see him now that he’d split off from the group.  
“Oi,” a whispered voice accompanied a jab to his ribs and the American jumped slightly, blushing to be caught, “you’re making that sad puppy face again.” It was Arthur, and he clearly knew who Alfred had been looking at. Of course, he’d known about the taller blond’s crush since almost the moment it first began.  
“Sorry,” the bespectacled blond muttered, following after the rest of the team as Coach led them to where the first part of their workout would take place.  
“Why don’t you just talk to him?”  
“Are you crazy? Like he’d be interested in me.”  
“Why wouldn’t he be?”  
“’Cause he’s….and I’m….” Alfred sighed in frustration. He didn’t want to say the other student was handsome and sexy and mysterious and athletic and smart and oh god that accent because he didn’t want to sound like some lovesick preteen, even if that was exactly how he felt. “We’re graduating in May and then I’ll never see him again. What’s the point?”  
“You’d stop being such a miserable bloody git all the time and my sister would stop pining after you.”  
“Fair enough.”  
But Coach was starting to explain their workout so both blonds fell silent in order to pay attention and not earn themselves extra running. Still, Alfred had a harder time focusing than usual as practice went on. His comment about graduating soon hadn’t been an exaggeration, and Arthur had told him enough times over the years that he should just come right out and talk to him. Alfred had just never been brave enough to do it even when he did have the chance. It wasn’t like they’d ever really been alone together. Arthur was determined, though, and gave him pointed looks throughout the practice.  
“I bet he’s got a card for you in his bag, mate,” he whispered as they walked back into the locker room after finishing their workout— _he_ was already in the corner at his locker. “Just give him a chance to give it to you.”  
There was no denying that Alfred wanted a card from the other student, but he hadn’t really put much hope into that. He’d always bought cards for him, but always chickened out giving it to him directly and simply stuck them in his locker when the taller male wasn’t around. He was worse than those lovesick girls in cliché cartoons and movies.  
“No. Just shower so we can get out of here.”  
More than ready to talk about something else, Alfred turned his back on Arthur and gathered his shower things from the locker. Flip flops, soap, shampoo, and a towel accompanied him across the room to where the shower stalls were lined up. After travelling to other schools for sporting events and finding showers without separate stalls or even curtains, Alfred was more than appreciative of the way his school’s locker room was designed. Not only were the stalls individual, they weren’t cramped, and each came with a small changing room as well, and a little bench where they could leave their things.  
So he stripped naked, put on his flip flops, left his discarded clothes on the bench, and cranked on the water. It was steaming in just a few moments, and he stepped under it with a grin. Oh, yeah, that was perfect. Nothing like a hot shower to keep the muscles from getting sore after a tough workout. Soon he was drenched from head to toe. He turned and lathered shampoo into his hair, found his bar of soap and scrubbed every bit of sun-kissed skin. By the time he was finished and was rinsing off, he smelled like his favorite Axe.  
“Alfred.”  
The sound of his name made the blue-eyed blond freeze. No way. No way. But that accent was unmistakable. It was _him._  
“U-um,” he cleared his throat, “yeah?”  
“I have birthday gift for you.”  
Shit, was he hyperventilating? Yup.  
 _Okay, Al, calm down. It’s just the guy you’ve had a secret hard-on for for years. No big deal. Stay cool. You got this. You’re team captain. Deep breaths, dude._  
“Oh, thanks! I’m not done yet, so you can leave it by my locker.” He cringed, hoping he didn’t sound too casual or flippant. The fact that he had bothered to get him a gift and bring it to practice had Alfred’s heart pounding.  
The dressing room curtain rustled, making Alfred turn his head slightly, but without his glasses he couldn’t see anything but the curtain separating the shower from the little changing room, and even the curtain was blurry despite being only a foot away. A quiet creak soon followed the rustling. What was going on out there? Ah, he’d find out soon enough. For now, he needed to finish rinsing the bubbles out of his hair.  
Once he was sure he’d washed away every trace of sweat and dirt and soap, he pushed his hair back out of his eyes and cranked the faucet until the water turned off. No sounds from the locker room reached him, so everyone else must have been gone already. Arthur was probably waiting by the car, arms crossed and frowning under the late morning sun because he was impatient to leave. The thought made Alfred chuckle, and he shook his head as he reached past the curtain for his towel.  
A hand gripped his wrist, too large to Arthur’s trying to scare him, to rough-palmed to be any of the guys he usually joked around with on the team.  
 _Oh my god. Oh my god, what’s he doing? Why is he in my shower stall? Fuck, he scared me._  
This time it was the shower curtain that rattled and rustled as it was pushed open, and Al was too shocked to bother turning away or to shield himself from view. It was _him_ , as he’d known it was from the size and grip of the hand that still had hold of him.  
“I-Ivan…what’re…uh…what’re you doing?”  
“Giving you your birthday gift.”  
Alfred was meek under that gaze. “I said you could leave it by my locker…”  
“It is not that kind of gift.”  
“O-oh.” Fuck, what was he supposed to do?! He was buck ass naked in a tiny little shower stall, cornered by a Russian who was a whole head taller than him and decidedly stronger, not to mention Ivan was only wearing a clean pair of boxer briefs—red this time—and was holding onto his wrist. Even if the difference in size hadn’t been a problem, the doorway was so narrow that there was no way he’d be able to push past him.  
Ivan remained silent, merely looked at him. The grip on his wrist was firm but wasn’t painful; he’d probably be able to twist out of it if he wanted. But he was frozen, held still by the way those weird violet eyes were looking at him. They bored into his own blue eyes, impossible to read. He could barely make out the taller teen’s expression, but he could tell when those eyes started to move down, slowly wandering over his body. Examining him. Alfred would have cringed if he could have moved. He’d never felt so shy about his own body before. He was tall and strong and handsome, so why did he suddenly feel like an ugly little weakling?  
There was so much heat in Ivan’s gaze that Alfred was actually starting to feel warm, and it wasn’t because of the hot shower he’d just taken.  
Wait…he was…oh, fuck.  
 _Not now! Body, stop that! He’s not even—holy hell he smells good…fuck look at him, he’s gorgeous…no, no, no! No boners! This is serious! Get a fucking grip, Alfred!_  
So maybe he’d had a few fantasies like this, that didn’t mean he was prepared to experience them! But god damn it he was already getting hard just from being this close to the guy, and Ivan hadn’t even done anything to him!  
 _I’m pathetic. He’s gonna think I’m a whore._  
Unsurprisingly, Ivan’s attention had landed exactly where Alfred didn’t want it. Well, he did, but not like this. Not when he was unprepared and couldn’t speak past the nervous lump in his throat.  
“Alfred.”  
The first time he opened his mouth to respond, the only thing that came out was an embarrassing squeak that made him blush darkly as he cleared his throat three or four times. “Erm…yeah?”  
“You are hard.”  
 _Yeah, no shit._  
His sarcasm remained locked in his head and Alfred merely nodded.  
“My fault?” Ivan asked, not sounding even remotely surprised or guilty or apologetic.  
“Well, yeah, but, how did you…?” He meant to ask how the Russian knew that he had this kind of effect on Al, but that would have been totally pointless. Of course he knew. Everyone knew. Alfred drooled just looking at him. Ivan would have to be a complete idiot not to have figured it out.  
“Your friend, Arthur, he says you like me.”  
 _Fucking traitor!_  
“He says I should…ah…” an almost embarrassed look came onto the Russian’s face, “put Alfred out of his misery.”  
What the hell was that supposed to mean.  
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Alfred lied, twisting his arm out of Ivan’s grip. “He’s just screwing around, dude. Probably trying to play a trick on me or something. So, uh, if you’ll let me out…”  
“ _Нет._ ” Both of Ivan’s arms shot out, slamming against the shower wall to either side of Alfred’s head and trapping the startled American between them. “Not until Alfred explains.”  
Jesus, his heart was gonna bust a couple of ribs if it beat any harder. “I-Ivan…”  
“Explain. What misery?”  
This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not to him, not while he was naked and soaked from his shower and god why did Ivan have to look at him with concern and determination and smell so damn good?  
“I-I…I like you, okay?” Alfred admitted defensively, glaring back at the taller male who was making him so weak in the knees. “I like you a lot. I have for years. Now will you move so I can dry off and get dressed?”  
Slowly, a grin that made the blond shiver spread over Ivan’s features. “ _Нет._ ”  
“Why not?” he almost shouted, his frustration building because he was hard and embarrassed and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss the man standing before him or if he wanted to punch the grin right off Ivan’s handsome fucking face.  
“I still have to give Alfred his gift.”  
“Then just give it to me already!”  
That was probably the wrong thing to say. Alfred barely had a chance to blink before Ivan’s hands were on his shoulders instead of the wall and he was roughly turned around. The white painted-over stone was rough and cool against his skin when his shoulders were shoved forward; a hand grabbed his hip and pulled, forcing his stomach to arch.  
“What the hell are you doing?!” He meant to sound angry and demanding, but it didn’t come out that way. He sounded panicked. “Ivan!”  
The Russian didn’t answer, merely rubbed the hip in his grasp and put his mouth by Alfred’s ear. Hot breath made the blond shiver and he clenched his jaw when he felt more blood rushing to his groin. He’d never been this turned on without actual touching in his life.  
“I-Ivan…”  
“ _Да?_ ”  
Fuck that accent and fuck his deep sexy voice and everything else that was so damn attractive about the bastard. Now what was he supposed to do? He could demand that the larger male get out and be left to deal with his hard-on by himself, but that would be passing up a chance at _Ivan_ , and he’d been dreaming about this sort of thing for too long to not regret missing an opportunity. Then again, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for what seemed about to happen.  
“I…I don’t…” he trailed off, embarrassed and not sure how to say it. Ivan didn’t press him, merely continued to rub his hip and waited in patient silence. Eventually, Alfred worked up his nerve enough to continue. “I’ve never done this before.”  
“Done what?” Ivan began leaving soft kisses along the top of Al’s shoulder and up his neck. Back and forth, back and forth, all the while his hand wandering over the curve of the blond’s hip bone, done to explore the soft curve of his thigh and back up, teasingly close to his groin.  
“S-sex.” Good god he was going to come just from that little contact.  
“Ah. Do not worry, Alfred. I would not make love in this shower.”  
Blue eyes went wide and Alfred stopped breathing. Make love? No one had ever said anything like that before. People wanted to screw him, wanted to be screwed by him. Bang, fuck, shag, he’d heard those terms, and in his head he’d always thought of it as making love when he thought of Ivan, but to have the Russian say it back…he didn’t know how to react.  
“Then…what’re you…?”  
Nervous and a little excited, he tried to turn to see the other boy only to have Ivan push him closer to the wall. Hips pressed against his ass and he gasped at the hardness contained by the Russian’s underwear. Had he really gotten Ivan hard? Him? It seemed so impossible but the evidence was right there, he couldn’t deny it. He was hard and Ivan was hard.  
Ivan wanted him.  
It was a moment of pure victory that made him grin, and he would have let out a woop had the situation been different. As it was, he kept his voice in check and allowed Ivan to arrange him against the wall. His hands were braced flat against the stones, shoulders and cheek resting there as his hips were pulled back. A foot gently nudged at his ankles to make him spread his legs.  
 _I look like a slut._  
But he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way Ivan’s kisses had moved to his upper back, the warm breath that caressed his skin and made him shudder, the hands on his waist as the Russian’s hips ground against his ass. Small sparks of pleasure were bolting through him, making his pulse race and his breathing shallow. His entire body felt warm and relaxed despite his eager anticipation, was moving just slightly to match the larger teen.  
Ivan had said they weren’t going to make love, so he wasn’t worried about losing his virginity in a shower stall in the high school’s locker room, but he was about thirty seconds away from begging the larger male to get on with it. He’d waited years for this to happen.  
“Ready?” Ivan breathed just next to his ear.  
Alfred swallowed hard and nodded. A chuckle sounded, low and husky, before one of the hands on his waist slid around towards his groin. The first gentle touch made him bite his lip and shift against the wall, followed by a soft groan as fingers wrapped around him.  
How was this even happening? Ivan was giving him a handjob. The world was ending. He’d somehow died and gone to heaven. It was the only explanation.  
“Relax, Alfred.”  
Oh, had he gotten tense? Oops.  
 _Okay, focus. Don’t get distracted. Just enjoy this while it lasts._  
That wasn’t difficult to do. Even though he went slowly at first, Ivan clearly knew what he was doing. With just a few strokes, he had Alfred panting against the wall and whining in the back of his throat. Touching himself was one thing, but being touched by someone else, especially the man he’d fantasized about since puberty, was an entirely new experience. He could just imagine that the grip Ivan had on him now was the same one the Russian used on himself, firm and deliberate to get him completely hard before he even got close to his release.  
An image of Ivan doing just that filled his mind, made him let out a low moan and shift again.  
“Feel good?”  
“Y-yeah…ah….shit….”  
The Russian chuckled again and continued, patiently sliding his hand up and down Alfred’s length. He was still pretty wet from his shower, and it wasn’t long before he started leaking precum, which only made it easier for Ivan to fondle him.  
“Why is Alfred so quiet?” Ivan teased, his free hand moving up to gently trace the American’s mouth. Al had been biting his lip for the past several moments in an effort to hold back his sounds, a difficult thing to manage because the groans building in his throat would have echoed around the locker room loudly enough for anyone outside to hear.  
“I-I don’t—nng—want to be f-found…hah…”  
“I want to hear.”  
Alfred whined, trying to think past the pleasure that was making his knees tremble. If they hadn’t been locked, he was sure he would have collapsed. How did people ever do this kind of thing standing up? He wasn’t even doing any of the work and he was about to fall over!  
No, he needed to focus. But this felt so good. Ivan was a god. How had he learned to do this? Fuck, no, he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. It was too much.  
“Ah…I-Ivan…mm…”  
“Louder.” A gentle squeeze.  
“Fuuuck Ivan!”  
The Russian smirked and licked up the back of Alfred’s neck, making the blond in his grasp whimper and shiver. “Good.” His hand started to move faster, twisted around Al’s length and teased his tip, grip loosening and tightening throughout.  
“N-no-aagh….I…vaaan…hah…I…sh-shit…someone’ll…hear!” His voice echoed back to him, accompanied by the sound of his pants and gasps and punctuated by little whimpers that made him sound pathetically horny.  
“Let them.”  
“Oohhhh,” he shuddered when Ivan squeezed him and bit his shoulder at the same time. His mouth was hotter than expected, teeth digging into Al’s skin just a little before he started to suck and lick. It made the American squirm, had him drawing his hips forward until Ivan forced them back again. And still that incessant grinding. Alfred was starting to wish they were both naked because god he was getting desperate and he didn’t care anymore that they were in the locker room. He just wanted to come and he wanted Ivan more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.  
“Alfred is close.” A particularly rough pump earned a loud groan from the blond and he nodded, light-headed from the lack of air and unable to focus enough to respond verbally. He couldn’t have kept quiet now if his life depended on it. The locker room was filled with his voice, his pants and moans and the desperate little keens he let out every few breaths.  
“Sh-shi….I…caan’t…Ivan…fuckin-nng…please…!”  
Without a word or a nod, the Russian began to pump faster, hand strong and steady around the smaller athlete’s length. The increased speed meant that Alfred was gasping for every breath, fingers digging into the stone of the wall as he tried to keep up. He barely realized that his hips were jutting forward to try to increase contact, that he was practically humping Ivan’s hand, and he couldn’t bring himself to care.  
This was heaven, was better than any fantasy or daydream he’d ever had about the man behind him. God he was so close. His vision had been reduced to a hazy world of white pleasure, the only sounds his own voice, Ivan’s hand and mouth the only things he could feel. Not even the wall was real anymore.  
“Let go, Alfred. Come for me.”  
That husky whisper spelled the end for him and Alfred came undone with a broken shout, hips bucking against Ivan’s hand as his seed spattered the wall. Every muscle was taught and trembling, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open as he tried to breathe.  
 _Fuck…_  
Slowly, his vision returned and his strength abandoned him, leaving him to slump against the wall with a tired groan. Exhaustion hit him like a bulldozer. He’d never been worked over like that, never had to wait so long for release. Ivan hadn’t gone easy on him.  
“Nn…” Strong arms wrapped around his middle and carefully hefted him away from the wall before he could collapse completely. Ivan carried him out of the shower stall and to one of the benches bolted to the locker room’s floor. Gently, he set the blond down and sat beside him, letting Alfred lean heavily on his shoulder.  
“Is Alfred all right?”  
“Hm?” He glanced tiredly at the Russian’s face. “Yeah…”  
Lips brushed against his temple. “Happy birthday.”  
Despite not having the energy to lift a hand, Alfred smiled and laughed quietly. “Thanks.” After being lied down the bench to rest, he watched Ivan go back to the shower and gather his things for him. The Russian toweled him down and helped him dress, though he did take a few moments to examine Alfred’s body in a way that had the American blushing and rolling his eyes to hide his embarrassment.  
“I can come to Alfred’s house?” Ivan asked once they were both fully dressed and Al had recovered enough to sit up on his own.  
Yes, absolutely. Oh, but what about Arthur? He was supposed to come hang out all day. Could Al really just ditch him in order to get laid?  
 _Little prick ratted me out. He can deal._  
“Yeah, you can.” He grinned, and the worried look that had been darkening Ivan’s eyes immediately vanished.  
“I will meet you there.”  
“Cool.”  
The two athletes picked up their respective bags and left the locker room together. Alfred’s gaze went straight to his car, where, unsurprisingly, Arthur was waiting with a bored and irritated expression. As soon as he saw Alfred coming, he shrugged away from the vehicle.  
“What took you so long?” he asked as the taller blond unlocked the car. Alfred glared.  
“You know _exactly_ what took me so long, you jerk.” He tossed his bag unceremoniously into the back seat as Arthur burst out laughing.  
“I take it you enjoyed Ivan’s birthday present then.”  
“Shut the fuck up, Arthur.”  
“Oh, come on, don’t be a git. I did you a favor.”  
Alfred chose to start the car and drive out of the parking lot rather than answer. Arthur folded his arms over his chest and raised one thick eyebrow. “What, you didn’t enjoy it? I thought you’d die for a chance at hooking up with Ivan.”  
“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”  
“Then what are you so pissed about?”  
His nerves making him grip the steering wheel harder than was necessary, Alfred glanced in his rearview mirror to see Ivan’s car following his own. “I’m not pissed.”  
“You’re still being an arse. I didn’t do it to be mean.”  
A sigh escaped the blue-eyed blond. “I know. Sorry. I’m just nervous.”  
“Why’re you nervous?” It was as he asked that Arthur noticed the way Alfred kept glancing at the mirror; he turned around. “Oh. I’m not coming over today, am I.”  
“Nope.”  
“Right. Well, good luck, mate.”  
“Thanks.”  
The car pulled up to the curb outside Arthur’s house and the smaller blond got out only to lean down to look at Al through the window. “Text me if you want to hang out later, okay?”  
“Yeah,” Alfred replied stiffly; his knuckles were white with the strength of his grip. He could practically feel Ivan’s gaze boring into the back of his head.  
“See you.” Arthur offered a crooked smile and waved before Al pulled away from the curb and stared off down the street with Ivan following close behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's nervous as all hell when he and Ivan get back to his place, but he's got something to prove and he's not letting anything get in his way.

It was a really good thing his parents weren’t home. They probably wouldn’t mind that their son was gay—they’d always been pretty open-minded and were all about being yourself and doing what makes you happiest in the world, especially when it came to their only child—but Alfred hadn’t come out to them yet, and he didn’t think the best way for them to find out would be for him to bring home the Russian immigrant student who’d just given him a handjob in the school shower. So when he keyed in the code to open the garage door as Ivan parked on the street, he was more than relieved to see that his parents’ cars weren’t there.  
“We have the place to ourselves,” he said by way of greeting when the taller boy approached him, and Ivan smiled.  
“That is good.”  
Shy now about what was probably going to happen once they got inside, Alfred offered his own crooked smile before leading the Russian into the house. He hit the garage button before going inside so that the heavy door slid down behind them, and went first through the small entryway and into the kitchen.  
“Want something to drink?” He turned to face the silver-haired athlete and was startled to find how close Ivan had followed him.  
“ _Нет,_ I am fine.”  
“Uh…okay…d’you…wanna go upstairs…?” Alfred’s bedroom was upstairs. The entire top floor of the house was dedicated to his room, his parents’ room, and their study, while the basement was where the entertainment systems and games were. Inviting Ivan to go upstairs instead of down was almost the same as asking him if he wanted to do something similar to what he’d done in the shower.  
Another smile appeared on the Russian’s face. “ _Да_.”  
His heart beating much faster now because of that smiled, Alfred turned and headed for the staircase. This time he was aware of how close Ivan was to him, and if he hadn’t been so eager to do this—not that he was showing it—he would have felt intimidated. Instead, it put an excited churning in his stomach and made him move a little faster than he needed to.  
“This’ my room,” he all but announced as he opened the wooden door and stepped inside. His bed was unmade, since he’d been too sleepy to make it this morning when he first woke up, and there were comic books spread out over his desk from the night before, but otherwise the floor was clear and the curtains were open to let in the sunlight. It didn’t even smell like dirty laundry the way some of his friends’ rooms did on occasion. All in all, he was pretty proud of how well-kept his room was, and was secretly really relieved that there was no reason for Ivan to judge him for being a slob or smelling.  
“Very nice,” the Russian commented in his accent, the r rolling slightly in a way that made Alfred smile.  
“Thanks.” Proud, he crossed the room and sat on his bed, and Ivan copied him only a moment later. “So, about earlier.”  
“ _Да?_ ”

“Why’d you come into my shower like that? Arthur told you to put me out of my misery, but he didn’t explain what that meant. So why’d you do it?”  
To his surprise, Ivan’s pale face slowly started to turn pink. “Alfred is very popular.”  
True enough, but that didn’t explain anything about what had happened, so Alfred just waited quietly for the suddenly shy teenager to continue.  
“I…did not think you would notice me.”  
“What?” Alfred couldn’t hide the surprise in his tone. “Seriously? You didn’t think I’d notice you? Dude, I start stuttering and mumbling just from being around you!”  
They were both blushing now, faces matching shades of reddish pink. It wasn’t lost on Alfred that this sort of embarrassment should have hit him in the shower, but he hadn’t really had a chance. Now that he was sitting beside the quiet Russian actually discussing his feelings, this all felt a lot more real.  
“How long?”  
“Since you moved here.”  
“ _Да._ ”  
It was quiet after Ivan mumbled that single word, and Alfred found himself starting to fidget. Sitting this close to the Russian made him nervous in the classic crush kind of way, and he wasn’t sure what to do next.  
 _He jerked you off in a shower twenty minutes ago. Quit being such a baby and_ do _something!_  
But what should he do? Kiss him? Touch him in some way? As if maybe he wanted to do something else? God, he didn’t know, and it was starting to get a little awkward just sitting there like that. Awkward was the last adjective Alfred wanted the other teen to apply to him. Ivan thought he was popular, so why was it so hard to be himself?  
 _“You bloody wanker!” ___  
Ivan and Alfred jumped simultaneously as Arthur’s angry voice suddenly shouted from the blond’s bag.  
“Sorry,” Al muttered as he retrieved his phone. In reality, he was a little relieved to have a text from Arthur to interrupt the uncomfortable silence.  
 _> >You’d better be shagging or snogging by now, mate. Don’t make me go behind your back again._  
Growling internally, Alfred closed out of the message and tossed his phone onto his desk.  
“Everything is all right?” There was mild concern in Ivan’s tone.  
“Yep.”  
All right, he was doing this. It was now or never. His only chance.  
Alfred took a deep breath and started to move before he could lose his nerve. With one hand he cupped the Russian’s cheek and turned his face slightly, meeting him in the middle as his eyes closed. He had to lean forward to reach, but he successfully kissed Ivan Braginski without making a total ass of himself. Just for a moment, and then he started to pull away only to have a hand placed on the back of his head to stop him from going anywhere.  
Ivan was kissing him back.  
Surprised but pleased, the bespectacled teen leaned forward again and playfully licked at Ivan’s lip. The large teen chuckled, his fingers threading through Alfred’s blond hair, and mimicked the action in a way that was definitely more seductive than playful. Alfred felt his whole body growing warmer.  
Shoving his shyness out of mind, the American tilted his head and caught Ivan’s lower lip between his teeth. The larger male stilled as his lip was sucked and tugged, moving his free hand to Al’s thigh, just below the hip, and rubbing slowly. This time Alfred was allowed to pull away, though it was mostly because he tugged gently before letting Ivan’s lip slip from between his teeth. When their eyes met, Alfred licked at a bit of spit on his lip and grinned a little at the dazed look on Ivan’s face.  
“I didn’t think you’d let me make the first move,” he teased, overly aware of the fact that Ivan’s hand wasn’t quite still on his thigh. It was an almost inviting touch, like the miniscule strokes of his fingertips were meant to entice Alfred closer and into another kiss. And it was working.  
“The first move was mine in your shower,” Ivan responded, shifting his muscular frame closer to Alfred, “and I am ready to make another move.”  
“Yeah?” Being this close to the Russian was intoxicating. “What move?”  
“Not sure.” Violet eyes glanced up at him as Ivan leaned down and began leaving soft kisses on his neck. That alone would have gotten to him, but considering the little caresses of hot air against his neck from the larger male’s breathing, he might have burst out of his skin.  
“Ivan…”  
“ _Да?_ ” The kisses trailed down to his shoulder and stopped at the collar of his shirt.  
Blushing and silent, Alfred leaned away and removed his t-shirt. Ivan examined him now just as he had in the shower, the hunger in his eyes adding to the eager energy that was making Alfred want to fidget and shift.  
“Alfred is very handsome.” Kisses down his chest. “Very…sexy.”  
“Thanks.” The fact that Ivan thought he was sexy was embarrassing and flattering and encouraging all at once. Every inch of him was tingling, wanted Ivan to touch him all over and make him feel the way he’d felt in the shower stall.  
Slowly, pressure was applied to his torso until Alfred relented and laid back against his pillows. As soon as he was down, Ivan was over him, hands braced to either side of the blond as he kissed and nipped at the sun-kissed skin. For someone who’d never done anything but experimental kissing until today, Alfred thought he was doing a pretty good job of keeping up. Ivan definitely seemed to have at least some experience, and while that made Al wonder if he would measure up, he didn’t let that stop him from tugging at the Russian’s shirt.  
“Be fair,” he muttered when Ivan ignored him, tugging more firmly. That earned a chuckle, and then Ivan sat up in order to pull his shirt off over his head.  
Alfred was pretty sure he started drooling the moment the Russian’s muscular torso was bared, as was his usual reaction. His skin was so pale his veins showed blue in his wrists—there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.  
“God you’re hot.”  
Ivan chuckled again. “ _Спасибо._ ”  
Blue eyes met violet and Alfred found himself blushing again.  
“So, uh, since you’ve already, y’know, touched me, do I get to do it to you now?”  
“If you would like to.”  
“Uhhh….” Hesitating, the blond glanced at his clock to make sure they still had plenty of time before his parents got home then nodded. “Yeah. Fair’s fair and stuff.”  
“Then Alfred is in charge now.” There was a playful edge to the larger man’s tone, one that made Alfred think that Ivan didn’t believe the blond was capable of being in charge. Which was stupid, seeing as Al was captain of the cross country team and held a position on the student council. His leadership skills were great, but he had been pretty submissive so far. Ivan was just so much bigger than he was, and more experienced. No wonder the white-haired teen didn’t see him as the dominant type.  
 _Show him what you can do, Al._  
His mind made up, Alfred sat up and pushed Ivan onto his back so that he was lying in the center of Alfred’s bed. Throwing one leg over to straddle him, the blond leaned down and kissed Ivan in the most seductive way he could manage. It was slow, the way he slid his mouth over the larger boy’s, lips fitting to Ivan’s as his tongue slipped out to taste. Ivan’s tongue ventured out only for Al to nip at it; Ivan pulled away at that, giving the bespectacled teen a surprised look that made Alfred grin.  
“I’m in charge, right?”  
Cautious eyes regarded him. “… _да_ …”  
“Then don’t make me punish you.”  
Eyebrows rose at the word “punish” and he could tell by the way Ivan shifted and licked his lips and looked away that the Russian was wondering if Alfred was serious about that. Al honestly had no idea what he’d do to punish Ivan—the boy could definitely overpower him, and they both knew Alfred was putty in Ivan’s hands, so punishing the Russian would be damn near impossible. But he still didn’t back down, and kept his gaze trained on Ivan’s face until the larger teen nodded.  
“ _Да._ ”  
“Good.”  
More confident now, Al set about the task of kissing Ivan again. The Russian was noticeably more submissive this time, his moves cautious as he set his hands on Al’s hips and kissed him back. Alfred was a little forceful now in the way he kissed Ivan, kissed him deep and hard so that the white-haired male was left breathless with almost bruised lips once Al pulled away. But the American wasn’t done yet. He was just getting started.  
Not giving the teen below him more than a moment to recover, Alfred shifted back and started kissing Ivan’s neck, felt the Russian’s stomach arch up a little as he tilted his head to expose more of his throat.  
 _Good boy._  
Alfred didn’t dare say it out loud. That would probably provoke Ivan into taking away the power he’d just given to the blond, and Al wasn’t ready for that to happen. There were a few things he really wanted to do to this Russian first.  
Zoning in on where a blue vein was visible just below the corner of Ivan’s jaw, Al let his weight rest on the Russian’s chest and licked the bluish coloring. Ivan’s skin was warm against his own; both of their hearts were thudding, easy to feel behind ribcages. And Ivan’s hands were on his hips, rubbing through his jeans and making Al want to press their bodies together, to move against Ivan in a way that would make it impossible for the Russian to hold back any longer. He didn’t, though, and forced himself to focus. Gently, he caught Ivan’s pale flesh between his teeth and bit just hard enough to leave a mark but not to hurt. When he thought he’d left a decent mark, he let go and licked, felt the dips left from his teeth under his tongue—he spent the next several moments licking and sucking at the spot while soft sounds escaped the pinned teen’s throat. The hands on his hips slid around to his ass, squeezing, kneading and creating a whimper in Al’s throat that he fought to hold back. No way was he giving away how weird and good that felt.  
By the time Alfred sat up to examine his work, a dark red mark had formed over Ivan’s vein and was already deepening to purple in some spots.  
“Heh. Nice.” He was more than pleased by the sight.  
“Satisfied?” For the moment, Ivan’s hands stilled and he turned his pinkish face forward again to look up at the American. The coloring in his cheeks was cute.  
“Yeah. But still not done.”  
Before Ivan could ask what else Alfred meant to do, the blond began kissing his way down the pale, muscular chest he’d fantasized about more times thatn he would admit. Ivan tasted clean, smiled like citrus and what was probably Old Spice deodorant. Al recognized it but could place the name. Nevertheless, it was a good smell for the Russian and made a great contrast to the minty taste of his mouth. Ivan was a feast all over.  
All the way down to the waistband of his jeans Al kissed, which he then unbuttoned and unzipped to reveal the red boxer briefs that had been grinding against his ass a mere hour ago. He was tempted to treat Ivan to a bit of playful grinding, especially considering the boner still trapped inside the Russian’s jeans.  
Tempting, tempting. He’d never done it before but it couldn’t be that hard, right? Or he could pull the jeans and underwear down and see if he was a natural at sucking Ivan off. He was probably huge, though, considering what a big guy he was, and judging by the size of that bulge.  
“Alfred.”  
“Hm?” Shaken out of his thoughts, Al looked up at the Russian and realized he must have paused for longer than he’d meant to. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about what I wanna do next.  
“What do you want to do?”  
It was a split-second decision on Alfred’s part to start talking a little dirty. “I think I wanna suck your cock.” He said it in a casual tone but couldn’t help but smirk when Ivan’s face started to turn red. “I don’t wanna screw yet, so…” trailing downwards, he hooked a finger in Ivan’s underwear and tugged, “I gotta do something to help you out with this.”  
“Ah… _да…пожалуйста…_ ”  
Assuming that the longer word meant “please,” Alfred grinned and swung his leg off the Russian to kneel beside him. Carefully, he worked the denim and cotton down the larger male’s hips until the fabric bunched around Ivan’s knees. His now free erection stood straight and intimidating—for a moment, Alfred wasn’t sure if he could do it. How the hell was he supposed to fit that whole thing in his mouth? And what if they decided to have sex one day? Would it fit? Fuck…  
“You’re huge,” he commented a bit meekly, unable to take his gaze away.  
One of Ivan’s large hands lifted and caressed his cheek, finally giving Al the motivation to look away from the Russian’s groin and at his face instead. “You do not have to.” The way he smiled was soothing, comforting in a way Alfred wouldn’t have expected from someone who was so downright intimidating most of the time. But there he was, mostly naked on Al’s bed and stroking his cheek and smiling and telling Alfred in not so many words that they didn’t have to do anything, they could stop if he wanted, and it honestly made Al want him even more.  
“You’re a fuckin’ charmer, Ivan.” With a crooked grin, Alfred ran a hand through his hair to ruffle it a little then swung his leg over the Russian again, sitting on Ivan’s broad chest with his back to him. “But I’m doing this, and I know you want me to, just…I don’t think I could handle you staring at me the whole time or telling me how sexy I look with your dick down my throat, so…”  
Ivan grinned and ran a hand up the American’s spine, making Al arch and shiver a little. “I will enjoy this view.”  
Well if that wasn’t a turn on thing to say then Al didn’t know what was. Just the sound of Ivan’s voice coming from behind him made him feel like he had in the shower—excited and nervous and electrified, adrenaline pumping as if the Russian might grab him and pin him down and have his way with Alfred at any moment. God he wouldn’t really mind that, wouldn’t really have minded it in the shower, but while his imagination put the larger teen into an extremely dominant role, he knew Ivan wouldn’t do anything like that without permission. That much was clear, and besides, he had to focus.  
His nerves made a lump form in his throat and Al swallowed hard to get rid of it before he lifted his hands. Uhh…how was he supposed to start? He didn’t have lube, so…spit? Yeah, that should work. He hoped it didn’t sound gross when he spat on his palms and rubbed them together in an attempt to substitute for lube, and Ivan didn’t say anything about it—he was still rubbing Al’s back soothingly—so he took that as permission to continue. Still, he couldn’t help but bite his lip as he wrapped his hands around Ivan’s length. It was hot to the touch and felt more like a solid bar than flesh, but that was to be expected. He knew his felt the same when he was hard, but Ivan’s skin felt a little different, and he found himself marveling at it as he began to move his hands. Alternating, one moved up while the other went down, slowly and gently in a stroking touch instead of the firm pumps Ivan had used on him earlier.  
“Mmm….Alfred….”  
Hearing his name sighed like that made the American’s ears heat up and turn red and he furrowed his forehead even as he continued. The hand on his back was joined by another, Ivan’s fingers working to massage his muscles and around the bones, over his shoulders and down his spine then back up his sides. It almost tickled but also kept him completely relaxed as he bent forward and gingerly kissed the tip of Ivan’s member.  
Okay, okay, he could do this. Damn his heart was like a drum. He’d never been this nervous in his life. What if he was bad at this? No, no, he could do it. It would be easy. Just like a popsicle. Ugh that sounded so stupid. Great. No, it was time to focus. Okay.  
With his throat feeling tight and his mouth dry, Al parted his lips enough to breathe out against the cock that was right in his face, felt Ivan shift beneath him and the rubbing hands settle on his hips. His named sounded again, quieter and less breathy, like Ivan was asking him to continue, and he couldn’t really deny that, so he opened his mouth more and used his hold on the appendage to guide it into his mouth. Only a couple of inches at first to get used to the feeling, but Ivan’s hands squeezed his hips and the white-haired teen moaned. It tasted kind of weird, if he was honest, but he could ignore that without trouble. The real problem he was facing was how he was actually going to do this. Ivan was a good seven or eight inches and Alfred was pretty sure his gag reflex wouldn’t let him take more than three, maybe four. Gagging during a blow job was not something he wanted to do, but he wanted to do his best for Ivan, so….  
A deep breath in through his nose while he closed his eyes, and Alfred relaxed his jaw as much as possible. Slowly and carefully, he lifted up onto his knees for better leverage—never mind the fact that it put his ass right in front of Ivan’s face—and started to take the Russian’s length inch by cautious inch. He was so focused on not choking that he barely noticed the hands working at his belt then tugging his jeans and boxers down. It was the cool air on the skin of his ass and thighs that alerted him to the fact that he was being stripped, but he only had another couple of inches to go and he wasn’t going to stop now.  
God, he could feel it pressing in his throat and now had to face the fact that maybe he didn’t have a gag reflex at all. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember ever really choking on things, not even his toothbrush when he brushed his tongue.  
 _Arthur did make fun of me once for eating a hotdog in two bites. Maybe this is what he meant by being a natural?_  
He was going to have to ask the green-eyed Brit later, and demand to know why Arthur had never bothered explaining it to him before, but for now he was just glad he’d managed to get every inch of Ivan’s impressive length into his mouth and down his throat.  
“ _Бог ... ты хороший ..._ ” Ivan sighed, hands massaging the less tanned skin of Al’s upper thighs. Alfred wanted to say thanks because he was pretty sure that had been a compliment, but he obviously wasn’t capable of producing words at the moment. Besides, he was pretty sure he could feel breath on his rear and Ivan was shifting around a lot considering the delicate position Alfred was currently in.  
“Mmph!” Blue eyes wide, Alfred arched his stomach and jerked, almost falling forward in surprise when he felt something warm and wet slide along the crack in his backside. “Mm! Mm!”  
 _What the fuck! What the fuck!_  
Ivan was _licking_ him! Jesus Christ! He was getting a rimjob! They hadn’t talked about this! He didn’t know Ivan was into this sort of thing! He’d heard about sixty-nine but mother of all that is holy!  
“Nnnnnng…” A shudder went through him when that tongue found his entrance and started pressing inside. The uncomfortable sensation made him squirm and he tried to protest around the object in his mouth to no avail. Within moments he was pretty sure Ivan had gotten his whole tongue in there because shit. Oh, ohhh god, no, no no he was _moving it_ and—  
Unable to stop himself, Alfred lifted his head recklessly fast to free his mouth and let out a long groan as soon as he was able, back arched and shoulders hunched, his head thrown back. Ivan’s tongue in his ass was bad enough but then the Russian had decided to start jerking him off too and holy living fuck his hips were twitching with the need to move in time with the appendage currently invading his body.  
“I-Ivan…shit…ah…” He bucked weakly, panting at the pleasure that was quickly overriding his senses.  
The tongue disappeared. “Keep going, Alfred.” A long lick up his crack made him whine and the American quickly obeyed his partner’s orders. This time, though, he didn’t take the time to deepthroat him.  
Instead, he went to work with his hands, rubbing and stroking, squeezing, twisting as he kept his mouth dedicated to the last few inches of hardened flesh. The sounds coming from Ivan egged him on, and what was being done to his dick and ass made it nearly impossible to hold himself up on his knees. Ivan was unnaturally good with his tongue, driving moan after groan from the blond, one hand on Al’s hip to steady him while the other was busy teasing the American to madness. His thumb pressed to Alfred’s tip and he squeezed, smirking at the drawn-out whine the action caused.  
“Nng…hah…Ivan…n-no more…” Eyes closed, Alfred took a break from his treatment of Russian’s length and tried desperately to catch his breath. He was already close, impressive considering it would be his second orgasm that morning, but he really couldn’t help it. Sixty-nineing with Ivan hadn’t even happened in his porn-fueled fantasies and his body was overly eager for the larger male’s touch. “G-god…fuck…I…van…I’m gonna…!”  
His whole body felt like a bow strung tight and he was about two seconds away from biting Ivan’s thigh just to try to hold back his sounds. He was getting progressively louder and thank god his parents weren’t home yet because that would have been the worst possible way for them to find out about his sexuality. And yet, despite his protests and pleas, Ivan continued to pump his length.  
“We will finish together, Alfred. Please, do not stop.” The Russian was breathless but still a great deal more coherent than his blond companion. It made Al feel a little foolish but he didn’t complain about the fact that he was obviously closer than Ivan was. He just pushed himself up again and got back to work.  
With more determination than before, he slid about a third of the larger teen’s length into his mouth, until he felt it prodding at the back of his throat, and began to suck. Strong but gently because he didn’t want it to be uncomfortable, and he used his tongue to rub and flick the way he assumed it was meant to be done. One hand was braced on the bed for support while the other gripped and pumped the rest of Ivan’s member to compensate what his mouth couldn’t handle.  
“Nnng… _очень даже хорошо_ …hah…”  
Ivan’s touch grew rougher, until Alfred couldn’t help but let his sounds out even as he continued to lick and suck the object in his mouth. His hips rocked with the movement of the Russian’s tongue and he breathed hard through his nose and mouth whenever he got the chance or when something Ivan did made him gasp. His thighs and arm were starting to tremble with the effort of supporting his weight.  
“Almost…ah…Alfred…”  
They were both close, both desperate for the other to finally let them release. In a last lust-hazy bid for success, Alfred relaxed his jaw again and quickly deepthroated the Russian, let his saliva drip down onto the teen’s thighs while he sucked and started to hum as loudly as he could. With a cry, Ivan jerked his hips up and came within the confines of the American’s mouth, making Alfred swallow hastily so he wouldn’t choke because there was no way he was going to survive if he tried not to. Spitting it out wasn’t an option since the Russian was already halfway down his throat.  
Slowly, Ivan relaxed again and Alfred tried to breathe.  
“ _Ладно ... вы можете остановиться ..._ ”  
A gentle hand rubbing his back let Alfred know that the mumbled Russian was permission to sit up, so he carefully pulled his mouth off Ivan’s quickly softening cock and sat up as he wiped his mouth. Spit and a little bit of the larger male’s pre-cum had been building up at the corners of his mouth and he really wanted to brush his teeth, but with his own climax hovering just out of reach, he couldn’t move much. He was still trembling, his breathing ragged as his heart pounded and his dick ached with the pressure that still needed to be relieved.  
“Ivan,” he whined quietly, embarrassed because he was sitting ass naked on the other teen’s chest having just sucked him off, and he was so close and desperate that he was ready to beg if that was what it would take for the white-haired athlete to help him.  
“Come.” With his hands on Alfred’s hips, Ivan guided the blond back until he was practically sitting on the Russian’s face. Red-faced and flustered, Alfred tried to find something to look at other than the hand reaching around him to wrap around his dripping length. The already-familiar feeling of Ivan’s tongue pressing into him made him moan and arch.  
“Nnnng…fuck…”  
The same firm grip was used on him now as in the shower and he found himself grinding into Ivan’s hand. His back was arched so far that he could reach back and hold onto white hair as he rode the Russian’s tongue and rutted against his palm. He probably looked like a porn star but god he didn’t care, he just let his jaw hang slack and called out shamelessly while the pressure in his belly and cock grew to an unbearable degree.  
“Ah…aah…Ivan…so….so close…hnng…fuck…Ivan…!”  
The hand on him twisted and squeezed and the tongue pushed deeper to rub against his insides and suddenly it felt like a damn broke in his gut.  
“ _Ivan!_ ” Alfred shouted the name as his hips bucked forward and his seed spilled onto Ivan’s hand and chest. His entire body was wracked with shudders, grip almost painfully tight in the other boy’s hair. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t only feel and hell he’d never felt this good, more maybe the shower handjob had felt this good but he didn’t know and he didn’t care. Ivan made him feel good and he’d made Ivan feel good and that was all that mattered.  
Gently, Ivan let him go and removed his tongue, helped Alfred shuffle forward so he could sit up and hold the American in his lap. Al was still in a daze, still breathless and quickly going limp as the ecstasy of sex left him.  
“Damn,” he eventually panted, looking up to find a tired smile on Ivan’s face.  
“Alfred is very good.”  
“Thanks. So’re you.”  
““ _Спасибо._ ”  
Al chuckled weakly. “You’re gonna have to teach me some of those words so I can know what you want next time we do something like this.”  
“If you want.”  
“Yeah.” Content, the American turned and snuggled into the larger teen’s chest, half-open eyes landing on the hickey he’d given the Russian. “So…are we…boyfriends?” He tried not to sound too hopeful but probably failed.  
“ _Да,_ if that is okay.”  
“Dude, it’s more than okay.”  
They smiled at each other before Ivan cupped Alfred’s chin and kissed him softly, not caring about the lingering taste of himself on the bespectacled athlete’s lips.  
“Good.”  
In comfortable silence, they rested for several long minutes, until their breathing had steadied and their hearts were beating at a more normal pace. Al knew they were going to have to rinse off after what they’d just done, and he was going to have some explaining to do when his parents got home. He should probably wash the sheets, too, just to be safe, but that wasn’t a problem. Really the only thing he wasn’t looking forward to was Arthur pestering him for details later in the day. The Brit would undoubtedly invite himself over at some point and do his absolute best to embarrass Alfred as much as possible.  
 _Eh…I’ll worry about it later._  
Really, not even the thought of his best friend teasing him mercilessly could bother him when he had a warm Russian to cuddle up with.


End file.
